


The Sleep Over, The Break's Over

by kiboutozetsubou



Series: College AU [3]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:04:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5348462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiboutozetsubou/pseuds/kiboutozetsubou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after the party, an unexpected visitor shows up to Hinata and Komaeda's dorm room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sleep Over, The Break's Over

**Author's Note:**

> i couldnt think of a title so i went with a bad fall out boy pun

It’s a Friday night and Komaeda watches from his desk chair as Hinata is huddled over his computer, furiously typing away at a research paper that’s due Monday. 

He himself doesn’t have any work to do, so he’s a little bored. The past few months their weekends have been dreadfully uneventful, especially when compared to the weekend of Hinata’s infamous party.

He says “infamous” because even though he really enjoyed himself, Hinata had a few choice things to say about it afterward. 

Komaeda wouldn’t say anything, but he’s disappointed that Hinata never took him home with him again. He hasn’t talked to Izuru since the party and he can’t lie to himself and say he doesn’t want to. 

When Hinata went home the weekend after the party, Komaeda asked him about Izuru when he returned. Hinata shrieked like a pterodactyl and hid under his bedcovers for three hours, so he has to assume things didn’t go well. He’s very curious as to what Izuru could’ve done to mess with Hinata this time. 

He would have to convince Hinata to take him back home with him one weekend. Only he’s a bit nervous even bringing it up since Hinata seems so emotionally scarred, for whatever reason. He does like to mess around with Hinata, but he also prefers his best friend to stay mentally sane. 

He sighs, pulling out his phone and returning a text from Nanami. She seems to be wondering where her boyfriend is and wants to play a new game with him. Unfortunately Hinata gets pretty sucked into his schoolwork once he gets going. Komaeda thinks he tries entirely too hard, possibly to make up for the fact that he isn’t naturally gifted with academic intelligence. Unlike someone they both know.

“Hinata-kun, I’m  _bored_ ,” he says, with pretty much the full intention of irritating Hinata since he knows Hinata won’t be torn away from his work.

“Sucks to suck,” Hinata predictably replies. “I’m working. Find something to do.”

“ _Hinata-kuuuun_ ,” he whines. 

Hinata’s shoulders tense up and the clicking of his writing stops for a moment. “Stop. You sound like a porn star.”

Komaeda laughs softly. “Should I tell Nanami-san about how your extensive knowledge of what porn stars sound like?” 

Hinata makes a strangled noise and whips around, eyes blazing. There’s a faint dusting of blush on his cheeks. “I’m going to fucking—”

His threat is interrupted by a knock on the door. 

Komaeda and Hinata look at each other. They didn’t invite anyone over, so neither has any knowledge of who could be at the door.

“Hm, maybe that’s Nanami-san?” Komaeda conjectures. “I’ll tell her—”

“ _No_  you don’t,” Hinata barks, leaping out of his desk chair and to the door with superhuman speed. 

He opens it and the first thing Komaeda notices is how Hinata’s body goes completely rigid. He says nothing to greet whoever’s at the door and his position is blocking Komaeda’s view.

He leans to the side in his chair, peering around Hinata to see who could elicit this reaction.

He really shouldn’t be too surprised when his eyes land on a familiar suit and ridiculously long black hair. Red eyes stare silently at Hinata. There’s a backpack slung over his right shoulder. 

“Ah, Izuru-kun,” Komaeda says happily, breaking the tense silence. He hops up from his chair. 

Izuru’s eyes snap over to him and at the same time Hinata starts, as though being broken from a trance. “What are  _you_  doing here?” 

“Hinata-kun, don’t be rude to our guest,” Komaeda chides teasingly. “At least let him inside before you start questioning him like that.”

He aims for casual and he hopes he succeeds, because inside he feels perhaps a bit  _too_  excited that Izuru is here. He never knew ‘the dokis’ were a real thing someone could get but his heart is pounding quickly in his chest. 

Hinata begrudgingly moves out of the way and Izuru wordlessly slides past him into the room. He sets his backpack down beside Hinata’s desk and straightens up. 

“I’ve decided to sleep over,” Izuru announces monotonously. 

Hinata sputters. Komaeda lets out a somewhat nervous laugh. 

“Hajime has declined my previous requests for us all to ‘hang out,’” Izuru explains to Komaeda, the air quotes evident in his words as though he’s never used the phrase before. “Therefore I have decided to take matters into my own hands.” 

“Of course,  _of course_  you would,” Hinata says exasperatedly. “No, there’s no way in hell this is happening. Get out.” 

Komaeda frowns at him. “Hinata-kun, why are you being so mean to your brother?” 

“Yes, Hajime, why are you being so mean to your brother?” Izuru parrots dispassionately. 

“Because—!” Hinata cuts himself off with a strangled sound and makes a few rapid, vague hand gestures. “Just because! And he can’t show up unannounced like this! I have things to do!” 

Izuru’s eyes trail over to Hinata’s laptop. “You’re writing a paper? I can finish it for you.” 

“No,” Hinata counters firmly. “Remember what happened last time you did that?” 

“Hinata-kun,” Komaeda cuts in placatingly. “You still have the rest of the weekend to write the paper anyway. I don’t see any issue with Izuru-kun staying with us, now that he’s come all the way here.” 

“Of course  _you_  don’t see any issue,” Hinata mutters venomously. 

Komaeda smiles sheepishly at him. 

“I can’t believe this is even happening,” Hinata groans, probably more to himself than anyone else. “We don’t even have any room for someone to sleep over. There’s only two single beds.” 

“Naturally, I will have to double up with one of you,” Izuru states simply, as though ‘doubling up’ with either of them in such a small bed wouldn’t entail being  _uncomfortably_  close. “I know Hajime likes having his own space, so I will have to—”

“Nope, nope, no,” Hinata cuts in. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence. This isn’t happening.” 

Komaeda feels a blush creeping up his neck. He laughs nervously again, unable to help it. “Maybe we can come up with another solution,” he offers. As much as he likes to tease Hinata, he definitely won’t be able to push on the issue of him and Izuru sharing a bed without dying of embarrassment. And he knows from experience that anyone sharing a bed with Hinata will probably end up being kicked off, intentionally or unintentionally. 

Izuru cocks his head, thoughtfully. He seems not to fully understand why his first solution was shot down. “In that case, Hajime can always sleep on the floor.” 

Hinata makes an indignant noise while Komaeda hums in agreement. “He is the host, after all.” 

“I hate both of you,” Hinata announces. “You know what, to hell with all of this. I’m leaving.” 

He starts storming around the room, snatching up his laptop and charger before rifling through his clothing drawer. Izuru and Komaeda look at each other and Komaeda offers a halfhearted shrug. Better to just let Hinata do what he wants. Being around Izuru seems to be really shortening his already-short fuse anyway, so getting out and sleeping somewhere else would probably do some good. 

“Don’t touch any of my stuff,” are Hinata’s parting words when he finishes gathering everything, hefting his laptop under one arm and a ball of pajamas and toiletries in the other. 

Then he stomps out of the room, swinging the door shut behind him. It closes loudly and a strange silence follows. 

 

 

Hinata marches indignantly down the hallway of the dorm, seething with absolute irritation over Izuru’s existence. It doesn’t occur to him until he’s halfway to the stairs that he’s probably made a gigantic mistake.

_Am I an idiot? Did I seriously just leave them alone together?! That’s probably the_ worst _possible thing I could’ve fucking done!!_

He groans audibly as he feels the weight of his stupidity. After such a dramatic exit, there’s really no way he could go back. Even if he did he’d probably end up strangling one or both of them before the night is out and he really wants to keep his blood pressure at a healthy level tonight.

But leaving them? Together? Alone? In an enclosed space? 

_No, no, better to just not think about it. At all. Don’t think about it, Hajime._

It’s really all he can do to not go entirely insane or start screaming in the middle of the dorm hallway. 

Trying to push the idea violently from his mind and accept his (incredibly) recent mistakes, he makes it down the stairs to the first floor before he realizes he has no idea where he’s even supposed to go.

The thought of going to Nanami’s room crosses his mind for a brief moment before he shakes his head vehemently, a blush rising to his cheeks. Definitely too soon for that kind of thing. 

He checks his text messages. One from Nanami: ‘i have a new game, do you want to come play with me?’

Even if that was an option, he doubts getting his ass handed to him in a video game will lift his spirits. 

He scrolls down his notifications to see three more texts.

‘hey man whats up?’

‘i got some booze if you wanna hang’

‘cmoooon dude dont make me drink by myself like a loser!!!!! °(ಗдಗ。)°’ 

Hinata rolls his eyes. Souda can really be an idiot sometimes.

But at least there’s someone he can go to, and an extra bonus of being able to drink away all of his troubles. And hopefully also his unsavory mental images of what Izuru and Komaeda could be getting up to. 

‘Chill dude I’m coming’

 

 

In the pregnant pause following Hinata’s departure Komaeda muses over how loud Hinata can be when he’s annoyed. It’s sort of funny. That might be part of the reason he likes to tease him; he really explodes in a rather exaggerated fashion that’s entertaining to watch.

Izuru might do that for much the same reason—entertainment, that is. From what Komaeda knows of him, he seems to always be looking for something to entertain him.

Right now there isn’t much entertainment and he feels a bit uncomfortable. He stands awkwardly next to his desk, and Izuru is standing across from him by Hinata’s desk, next to his backpack. Izuru is watching him intently but says nothing.

He’s happy to see Izuru, of course, but standing face to face with him, alone, and being suddenly reminded of every detail of their last encounter is leaving him at a loss for words. 

“So,” Komaeda says to break the silence. “It’s been a while, Izuru-kun. It’s good to see you.”

Izuru blinks. “It’s good to see you too.”

He doesn’t offer anything more than that but his words sound genuine—as genuine as Izuru can sound, anyway. He looks to be more intent on studying Komaeda than talking to him. Komaeda can’t help but feel a bit self-conscious. After all, there’s nothing about him that would warrant that much attention.

“Ah—it’s a shame Hinata-kun can’t be here with us,” Komaeda comments mildly. “He seems a bit more crabby than usual, doesn’t he?”

Izuru’s mouth twitches imperceptibly. “He’s upset with me.” 

Komaeda laughs, feeling ease flow back into the conversation, replacing the tension. He sinks back down into his chair, and Izuru mimics his movements, sitting in the chair across from him. “I can see that,” he says, amused. “What happened?” 

Izuru’s gaze trails up to the ceiling, around the room, thoughtful. “Well—do you recall the first weekend he went home after the party?” 

Komaeda nods. “I remember you wanted him to bring me, but he wouldn’t let me come.” 

“He’s obstinate,” Izuru says. “I guess I was a bit annoyed, so I said something that I maybe shouldn’t have.” 

“Hmm, it must have been something good.” Komaeda leans forward in his chair, interested. “When I asked him about that encounter later on, he screamed and hid from me.”

Izuru’s mouth twitches into something that resembles a real, amused smile. It’s the closest to one Komaeda has ever seen on his face. The sight makes him feel warm. 

“I told him I was going to ask you if I’m a better kisser than him,” Izuru says. 

All of the inner warmth Komaeda feels immediately rushes to his cheeks. Still he can’t help but laugh— _really laugh_ , head thrown back, shoulders shaking—imagining Hinata’s reaction to such a thing.

“Poor Hinata-kun!” he manages. “Ahaha—no wonder he didn’t want us to meet up again!” 

Izuru seems strangely fascinated watching him laugh. “It’s true that I just said it to mess with him, but I would like to know.” 

Komaeda collects himself. “Hm?” 

“Which of us would you say is a better kisser?” Izuru asks bluntly, head cocked to the side. 

Komaeda stops, blinking at him, unable to process the question.  _How can he say things like that without an ounce of embarrassment—?_

He’s beyond understanding some of the complexities of Izuru’s emotions, or lack thereof. 

“Um,” is the eloquent answer that comes from him about ten seconds later. 

Izuru waits patiently.

“I—well—when I kissed Hinata-kun, it wasn’t really much of one,” Komaeda stammers out, internally cringing at even having to conjure up that embarrassing memory again. “It was one-sided, and on top of that it didn’t feel right. I could tell I wasn’t supposed to have that sort of relationship with him. So, there’s really no contest... I liked my kiss with you better.” 

Izuru appears to be thinking over his answer for a few moments, and then nods, as though in approval. “That’s good,” he affirms. 

“Is it?” Komaeda asks. His voice sounds higher than he intended. 

Izuru nods again. “I’m glad. I’ve been thinking about it, and I was worried that my kiss was subpar. It was my first one, after all.” 

Komaeda’s response is delayed because his brain is momentarily stuck on ‘I’ve been thinking about it.’ 

“No, it was fine,” he reassures him. “I mean, it was very quick, so I can’t really judge it very well. But it wasn’t unpleasant at all.” 

“It was quick,” Izuru concurs. “I recall that you said there would be a longer-lasting one ‘next time.’”

Komaeda sputters in a rather undignified manner. “Did I say that?” 

“I wouldn’t forget that,” Izuru replies confidently. 

Komaeda’s face is burning and his eyes dart around the room, unable to look directly at Izuru. He wonders if any of this is really happening or if he’s having some strange dream. It wouldn’t exactly be his first dream along these lines, not that he’d ever admit that. 

But no, this is certainly real. He’s certain he couldn’t dream the way his pulse is hammering in his ears and his stomach is flipping and tightening in nervous, excited knots. 

He doesn’t really know how to respond, because he’s unsure if Izuru is just saying that or if he’s implying that he wants to take Komaeda up on his offer. Ordinarily one would assume the latter, but this is Izuru and Komaeda isn’t completely sure he should assume anything. 

Izuru must sense that he’s caused some sort of awkwardness because he stands and changes the subject. “I’m going to get changed.” 

Komaeda glances at the clock on his desk. It is a bit late. Not late enough for bed, but late enough to get changed, at least. 

“Oh, sure, go ahead. The bathroom is—” He doesn’t get to finish because Izuru whisks his tie off in one deft movement and shrugs out of his jacket, folding it and placing it neatly over the back of the chair. “Oh. You’re changing here.” 

“Hm?” Izuru doesn’t stop his movements and starts unbuttoning his shirt. “This is acceptable, isn’t it? We are both male.” 

The first thing that pops into Komaeda’s head is that that’s probably the sort of thing they say at the start of gay porn videos all the time. He doesn’t watch porn, but it really does sound like it would be. And that thought isn’t helping his flushed face. 

Nor is the image of Izuru shirtless right in front of him as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt and takes it off. Again he folds it neatly, and then places it on the chair. 

Komaeda tries to glance away, but admittedly he doesn’t try too hard because it doesn’t seem as though Izuru cares if he looks at him. So ultimately his eyes end up roving over Izuru’s chest of their own accord. 

“I-It’s fine,” he says belatedly in an attempt to distract himself and alleviate any uncomfortable silence. Not that Izuru considers any silence to be uncomfortable. “I don’t mind. I just assumed you would want privacy.” 

He doesn’t really know what he assumed, but he wants to say something to keep the conversation going. He’s not really succeeding in distracting himself, though; he’s still acutely aware of the way Izuru’s lean muscles move under his skin as he bends over to fetch his pajamas from his bag. His skin is just a bit tanner than he would’ve expected. 

“It makes no difference to me,” Izuru states as he pulls his pajama shirt over his head. Blessedly he’s putting the shirt on before taking off his pants. There’s only so much Komaeda can handle right now. “Are you going to change?” 

Oh, that might be a good idea. To change and not keep ogling Izuru like an idiot. Komaeda usually only wears his boxers to bed, though, and he’s unsure if he should just strip down. He feels somewhat self-conscious knowing that Izuru’s body looks much better than his own.

Well, in the end that doesn’t really matter. He’s never been shy before. With a shrug he takes off his jacket and pulls his shirt over his head. Like Izuru, he meticulously folds his clothing, placing it aside, before taking his pants off. He’s wearing his lucky boxers today, he notices. He thinks he’ll probably need all the luck he can get. 

He looks up to see Izuru looking at him curiously, himself fully clothed. 

“Is everything alright, Izuru-kun?” he asks, to cover up the embarrassment he feels from his stare. 

“I didn’t... expect that you would only wear boxers to bed,” Izuru observes. His tone is mostly casual but for the awkward pause between his words. “You strike me as the type to get cold easily.” 

He’s not wrong; Komaeda does get cold easily, but he finds it uncomfortable to try to fall asleep when wearing layers of clothing, for some reason. He would rather feel cold than constricted. 

“I hope it doesn’t bother you,” he says, rather than explaining this. 

Izuru’s eyes give him a once-over. “It bothers me a bit.” 

“Ah...” It stings, even though he shouldn’t be surprised that Izuru is uncomfortable. 

Before he can say anything, however, Izuru bends over and begins ruffling through his bag. He straightens up and tosses something fluffy and green Komaeda’s way. He catches it and looks down: a blanket. 

“It would bother me less if you put that on,” Izuru tells him, and then he abruptly settles himself down on the floor, cross-legged.

Komaeda is unsure why he’s sitting on the floor, but he wordlessly settles down across from him, throwing the blanket over his shoulders. He’s confused about the purpose of the blanket but doesn’t say anything. 

“I have researched activities to be done at sleepovers,” Izuru says. “Of all of them, one that appeals to me is one that we have both partaken in at Hajime’s party: truth or dare. Would you like to play?” 

Komaeda can’t help but smile. Izuru is brilliant, but at times like these he seems so naive. He can’t help but find it at least slightly adorable. 

“Truth or dare?” He draws the blanket closer around himself, thinking about the request. “To be honest, I was never a fan of the ‘dare’ aspect of the game. And I feel as though I don’t  _really_  know too much about you, Izuru-kun, so I’m more interested in ‘truth’ anyway.” 

He really doesn’t know much about him—something that he has to remind himself frequently because in actuality, he feels as though he’s known Izuru for much longer than he has. 

Izuru nods. “You are suggesting we eliminate the ‘dare’ part of the game? I have heard of a game similar to that. However, a male and female party are usually involved, and the male usually ends up asking some inappropriate or vulgar questions, such as what the female’s chest size is.” 

Komaeda laughs. “Eighty-four centimeters, in case you wanted to know.” 

Izuru’s eyes shoot up in surprise and his mouth twists and he flashes a smile, a real smile with teeth, and a soft laugh escapes his lips. 

They both seem equally surprised that this just happened, but even as he snaps back to normal Izuru’s smile doesn’t completely fade. “Thank you for telling me,” he says in an amused tone. “Now I believe it’s your turn to ask a question.” 

Komaeda feels lightheaded. Half of his brain is occupied with wondering how he could get Izuru to laugh again. “Hm? Ah, well...let me think.” 

There are so many things he doesn’t know about Izuru. So many that he has no clue where to start. 

He looks over at the boy across from him, the one he knows so little about but is so fascinated by. Izuru stares back at him inquisitively, wide red eyes that are usually so dull, but light up with a brilliant curiosity when he is waiting for Komaeda to say something. Their odd color is magnified more so by the dark hair framing Izuru’s face. He really is quite peculiar-looking; some might say intimidating. But Komaeda can’t help but find the contrast striking and beautiful. 

Komaeda loves beautiful things, but what he considered “beautiful” always tended toward the darker, more morbid things. Hinata always criticized him for that. 

He doesn’t mind so much now. 

“Why do you keep your hair so long?” is the question that tumbles out of his mouth. 

Izuru blinks, clearly not having expected the question. His eyes cast down and a hand comes up to touch the ends of the long locks flowing over his shoulder. 

“I never thought about it,” Izuru says. “I never cared enough to get a hair cut, I suppose.” 

“That makes sense,” Komaeda says. 

Izuru lifts up a strand in front of his face, examining it carefully. “Do you think I should cut it?” he asks. 

“No,” Komaeda answers, perhaps a bit too quickly. “Personally, I think it’s quite beautiful.” 

Izuru looks up at him as he says this. “Thank you. I think yours is beautiful, as well.” 

His hair? Beautiful? When compared to Izuru’s, there’s hardly a contest. Komaeda doesn’t see where Izuru could get that idea from. But he’s not going to rebuff a compliment. “Thank you, Izuru-kun.” He lifts one arm up to scratch the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed, and his fingers tangle into the thick white hair at his nape. As he moves his arm the blanket slips off of one shoulder and he realizes it is a bit cold. 

Izuru’s eyes trail to his bare shoulder. Komaeda is pretty sure he’s just staring blankly as he thinks of a question to ask, but he can’t help but feel self-conscious. 

Which is odd for him; he’s never usually self-conscious. When it comes to physical appearance, he knows and accepts that he’s unattractive, so there’s really no insecurity involved. 

“Why do you feel the way you do about yourself?” 

The question startles him. “That’s a bit vague, Izuru-kun. What do you mean?” 

“Although you do not voice it extremely often, I can tell that you do not think highly of yourself. I want to know why that is.”

Ah, so it’s this question. He shouldn’t be too surprised. Hinata has asked him a similar thing more than once in the past. 

“I’m sorry if it bothers you,” Komaeda says with a sheepish smile. “It’s not really a matter of what I  _think_. I just know that I’m nothing special. I know that I’m not smart, or attractive, or talented, or interesting. It’s not a self-esteem issue, it’s just a fact. But I’ve accepted it! I’m not upset about it.” 

Izuru’s brows pinch together and his mouth tightens into a flat line. Komaeda is quickly able to identify this as Izuru’s angry face, and he feels dread swirl up in his gut. He didn’t think Izuru would be angry with him. Usually this is the sort of thing Hinata gets annoyed about, but that’s  _Hinata._  

“That’s wrong,” Izuru says firmly. “Don’t say those things anymore.”

“But, Izuru-kun—”

Izuru shakes his head and holds up one finger, silencing him. “You’re wrong. I have said this to you before, and I will say it again. You are much more than you think you are, Nagito.” 

_Nagito?!_  Komaeda’s brain stops all activity for a second, caught up on that one last word. 

“Even if you do not believe me,” Izuru continues on as though nothing happened, as though Komaeda hasn’t just frozen solid across from him, “I think it will help if you stop saying those things about yourself.” 

Komaeda nods numbly, unsure of what he’s really agreeing to. It’s his turn to ask a question now, isn’t it? But he can’t think of any question right now, aside from—“Why did you call me that?” 

“Hm?” Izuru cocks his head to the side, his hair falling in his face. “Nagito? It only makes sense, since you call me Izuru.” 

That might be true, but Komaeda only calls him that because calling him by his surname would be too confusing—and he uses an honorific, at least—he can’t remember the last time he’s heard his own given name without any sort of honorific outside of his family. Coming from Izuru’s mouth, it sounds so intimate in a way that it might not otherwise. 

“I... I guess you’re right,” Komaeda says weakly. 

“That seems like a waste of a question,” Izuru comments. “You can ask another one, if you want.” 

It’s difficult to think of anything. He’s starting to feel a bit tired. Still, he wants to know more about Izuru. The more he talks with him, the more baffling and fascinating he is. 

His mind drifts to Hinata. Before meeting Izuru, everything that Komaeda knew of him came from Hinata, usually in the form of a frustrated rant. He always knew that Hinata loved his brother, but there was an undeniably strong sense of jealousy directed toward him as well. At times it seemed ugly and unhealthy. He worried Hinata was developing some sort of inferiority complex. Knowing what he does about Izuru, he can see where Hinata is coming from, but—he doesn’t think Hinata should feel that way at all, and he’s sure Izuru agrees. 

“There is something I want to know about,” Komaeda says. “What do you think about Hinata-kun’s feelings of envy toward you? I’m sure you’ve noticed it.” 

“Of course I have,” Izuru responds off-handedly. “Anyone could notice it. Hajime has never been subtle, in any aspect of his life. Particularly when he is jealous. Tonight is a good example of that.” 

“Tonight...?” 

“His negative reaction to my presence is partly due to jealousy,” Izuru explains smoothly. “He doesn’t want me to take you away from him.” 

It’s such a ridiculous notion, Komaeda has to laugh. “Ahaha, if that is the case, it’s sort of silly. Hinata-kun should know I’ll always be his best friend.” 

Izuru says nothing in response. After a few beats of silence Komaeda is worried that he might have said something wrong. 

“Hajime is not the only one who feels jealousy,” Izuru says finally. 

Komaeda thinks back to Hinata’s party, during the truth or dare game, when Hinata asked Izuru about how it feels to not have friends. He thinks back further, to Hinata’s explanations of Izuru’s extraordinary talent, and the one Achilles heel he had to counter it—that he had no social life. Previously, Komaeda thought Izuru had no friends because he didn’t want any. 

Now he thinks maybe that’s not all there is to it.

“I know that Hajime has always been envious of my academic achievements, but I have been envious of him, as well. He makes friends very easily and has many of them. He is generally likable and fun to be around. And you—” Izuru cuts himself off abruptly. “Well.” 

“What about me?” Komaeda prompts, intrigued. 

“You—” Izuru seems to be unsure of what he wants to say. “The two of you are very close.” 

“Ah, yes, I suppose we are.” 

“I am jealous of that.” 

Komaeda is unsure of how to respond to such a blunt declaration. He falls silent, feeling somber at Izuru’s words. He doesn’t like to imagine Izuru as so lonely, pining for the human interaction that his brother experiences so easily. It makes him sad to think about it. 

“You wish you had a close friendship as well,” he says. 

Izuru looks away, the first indication of embarrassment he has shown. “Well, something like that.” 

Komaeda smiles at him, a gentle, sympathetic smile. He doesn’t want Izuru to feel as though he is pitied, but he wants him to know that he understands.

He does, in a way. He has Hinata, and Nanami to a lesser degree, but aside from them he doesn’t really have any friends either. He’s never been entirely likable.

It’s just not something he can do, but he knows it’s something Izuru can do. 

“You’re certainly not incapable of it,” Komaeda tells him brightly. “You can achieve anything you want, Izuru-kun. I firmly believe that!”

Izuru’s mouth twitches. When he looks back at Komaeda he looks something akin to faintly amused. “I’m glad that you think so.” 

“Of course I do! You’re incredible, Izuru-kun. Hinata-kun might be more naturally talented at friendships, and you might be more naturally talented at academics, but you’re both valuable and important in your own way. I don’t think there’s any need for  _either_  of you to be jealous of the other—you can’t naturally have everything.” 

Izuru looks as though he’s working this over in his mind. “I never thought of it like that before,” he admits softly. 

“If you talk to him about it, I’m sure you can reach an understanding,” Komaeda prompts him. “It’s better to help each other than to have it strain your relationship.”

“That certainly makes sense,” Izuru agrees. “I can see what you mean. Perhaps it is difficult for me to accept, since I have always been effortlessly excellent at everything I do.” 

“Ahaha, you’re not very modest about it, are you?” Komaeda teases lightly. 

Izuru shrugs. “It’s just the truth. I’ve never felt superior because of it, although other people seem inclined to think of me as such.” 

Komaeda supposes that prior to meeting Izuru, he was one of those people. Loath as he is to admit it, he remembers thinking of Izuru as the ultimate, exalted ideal of talent, based on what Hinata had said about him. As someone who admires talent, Komaeda admired Izuru for that reason.

But having met him, he understands that he is much more than that. He is not only talent; he is human, a being of flesh and blood and doubts and insecurities and, despite popular opinion, a spectrum of emotions just as rich as anyone else. 

His feelings for him are not quite admiration, now—they include admiration as a component, but it is not their basis. 

“You look cold,” Izuru observes suddenly. 

Komaeda looks at him with some confusion for a moment. Caught up as he was in his own musings, he didn’t even notice that he was cold. But he is clutching the blanket close and curling in on himself. “Ah, I suppose I am.” 

“I will ask one more question and then we can stop the game,” Izuru declares. 

“If you want,” Komaeda acquiesces. 

“What is your favorite color?” 

Komaeda laughs, surprised. “That’s an anti-climactic question, Izuru-kun!” 

“The previous questions were quite heavy,” Izuru explains. “I wanted to go with something lighter. And isn’t that a standard question for one to ask their friends?” 

It really  _isn’t,_  which is just another example of Izuru being adorably unaware of normal social etiquette. 

“Of course,” Komaeda says, smiling at him. “I’ve never put much thought into it, though. I guess I’m partial to green.” 

Izuru nods. “Your jacket is green.” 

“Right. It’s a soothing color. Many things in nature are green, and they’re beautiful, don’t you think?” 

“Beautiful?” Izuru echoes. “I suppose. I like green as well.” 

“Is it your favorite?” 

Izuru looks at him closely, tilting his head to the side. “No, not quite. I like green, but I also like grey. I think my favorite color would be a combination of the two.” 

“I wouldn’t expect that from you,” Komaeda admits. 

“Hm,” is all Izuru says. Then, “Since the game is done, would you like to watch a movie now?” 

A movie? Admittedly Komaeda is pretty tired, but he’s never been one to turn down a movie. “Sure. Do you have anything in mind?” 

Izuru turns around and begins rummaging through his bag once more. Komaeda can’t help but wonder if this thing is some sort of bottomless pit and if Izuru has packed to accommodate every possible scenario of the sleepover. “Nothing specifically, but I figure we can look at what is available,” Izuru tells him as he pulls a laptop out of the bag. “How do you feel about horror? It’s a common genre for sleepovers.” 

“I don’t mind horror,” Komaeda says honestly. “Although sometimes I end up laughing at inappropriate times, so I’m sorry in advance.” 

Izuru smiles minutely. “I also find them amusing more often than not. Shall we sit on the bed?” 

The lower bunk is Hinata’s bed, but it doesn’t really matter. Hinata had to have known that his bed would be used once he left them here; one of them will end up sleeping in it, after all. 

Also, Komaeda  _is_  feeling cold and he’d rather get off the floor if at all possible. 

He moves up to sit on the bed, pulling his knees up against his chest and wrapping the blanket around them. Izuru sits down next to him with the laptop on his lap— _directly_  next to him, their shoulders and sides pressed flush against one another. Komaeda jumps at the contact and his heart stutters. 

“This will warm you up faster,” Izuru explains. “It would be even more effective if we shared the blanket.” 

Wordlessly Komaeda relinquishes one side of the blanket. Izuru wraps it around his own shoulders and presses in impossibly closer. Komaeda thinks there’s no way Izuru doesn’t notice the thunderous rhythm of his heartbeat. He certainly feels much warmer now. 

“Thank you, Izuru-kun,” he says.

He’s so preoccupied that he doesn’t notice much of what Izuru does on his computer. A few minutes later he’s pulled up a generic horror movie. 

The movie is about an hour and a half long, and as they watch there are a few points where Komaeda feels he might have dozed off, had he not been so nervous and hyperaware of his closeness to Izuru. The movie itself isn’t very good, but the both of them expected that and it was sort of the point. Komaeda does laugh a few times and although he isn’t graced with Izuru’s laugh again, he catches him smiling once or twice. 

All in all he doesn’t pay as much attention to the movie as he normally would have, because it’s hard to concentrate on much other than the side of Izuru’s body pressed against him. It’s baffling because Izuru doesn’t strike him as the physically-close type, but maybe he really is concerned about Komaeda being cold. 

_It would be silly for him to worry about someone like me_ , he thinks, but he really doesn’t know. In some ways he and Izuru understand each other rather well, but in other ways he is very perplexed by the things Izuru says and does. But that only makes sense, since Izuru is so much smarter and more interesting than him, anyway. Not that he’ll say that out loud.

The end credits begin rolling and Komaeda barely stifles a yawn.

“That was entertaining enough,” Izuru remarks, as he closes the laptop and sets it aside. 

He makes no effort to move away, so Komaeda has to turn to look at him from their current position. There’s barely a few inches between their faces. “It was pretty bad, but in an amusing way,” he agrees. 

“Those are my favorite sorts of movies to watch,” Izuru says. “Hajime and I used to watch them together often, except he always ended up being frightened. He would make up some excuse to sleep in bed with me that night.” 

Komaeda laughs quietly. “He’s done that with me a few times. He always insists that it’s because  _I’m_  scared, but we both know the truth. It’s sort of cute.” 

Izuru stares at him. 

“Ah—” Perhaps that was an awkward thing to say. “I mean, not in a weird way,” he adds lamely. 

“I didn’t know that you two slept together,” Izuru says. 

_He really has no idea how that sounds, does he..._  Komaeda wills his face not to erupt into flames at Izuru’s statement, because that certainly wouldn’t help his case. 

“If that sort of thing is normal for you two, then how come Hajime didn’t want you and I to share a bed?” Izuru asks. 

_He really has no idea about any of this..._

“Well—um—maybe because you and I aren’t that close yet?” Komaeda fumbles. “Sometimes that sort of thing can be seen as very intimate.” 

“But you and he are not intimate, and yet you do it.” 

“T-That’s true, but, I guess he doesn’t see it that way. It probably has something to do with the fact that he knows we’ve kissed.” He didn’t want to have to bring that up, but maybe it will help Izuru to understand. 

“His logic is flawed. You and he also kissed, and yet you are allowed to share a bed.” 

Komaeda blushes and looks away. “Izuru-kun, you don’t have to bring that up,” he whines. “It’s extremely embarrassing. It was a mistake, so it doesn’t really count, anyway.” 

“So that is the difference,” Izuru says, ignoring Komaeda’s embarrassment and nodding to himself. “That was a mistake, but your kiss with me was not a mistake.” 

“Well—” There’s really no getting out of this one without more embarrassment. Thanks, Izuru-kun. “That’s right.” 

Izuru nods to himself again and falls silent. He turns away, staring ahead as though deliberating something. Komaeda watches him, fidgeting with the blanket. 

Izuru turns back to him abruptly. “I have been doing some research, and I believe I have enhanced my skills.” 

Komaeda blinks at him. “Huh?” 

“I am confident that I have studied all of the necessary information.” 

“Um—I’m sorry, Izuru-kun, what are we talking about?” 

“Kissing.” 

Komaeda lets go of the blanket in shock. It slips off him again, but he definitely doesn’t feel cold. “Y-You...” 

He doesn’t really even know how to finish that sentence. Izuru averts his eyes and he thinks for the first time he might look a bit embarrassed. 

“As I said, I have researched the topic, and am confident in my abilities. I would like to try again,” he says almost robotically. “If you don’t mind.” 

“ _Research_?” is all Komaeda can say. 

“Of course.” 

No elaboration. Does he even want to know what sort of research Izuru is talking about? 

“Please tell me if you don’t want to,” Izuru says when he doesn’t immediately respond. “I am not yet very adept at reading signals, so I can’t tell if you do or not.” 

Despite his shock and incredulity over the current situation, Komaeda doesn’t feel at all as though he doesn’t want to do this. He knows that he does,  _of course_  he does, he should be thrilled that Izuru is even asking. And he is, but he also feels overwhelmingly nervous for some reason. 

Why is Izuru even asking? Is it because he wants to practice so that he can get better? He is the sort of person who is excellent at everything, so of course he would want to be excellent at this. But is that the only reason? Or is it—? No, he shouldn’t be thinking that far into it right now.

“I do want to, Izuru-kun,” he admits quietly, his voice coming out in a quick breath. 

Izuru smiles and shifts, turning his body fully toward him. “I’m glad.” 

Komaeda smiles back at him, tentatively. They’re so close he can feel Izuru’s breath gently ghosting against his skin. Izuru’s eyes are searching his face, careful and calculating. Shadowed by the dim light of the dorm room, his irises are a deep, dark crimson, nearly blending in with his dilated pupils. 

They’re the last thing Komaeda sees before his eyelids flutter shut. A moment later he feels soft lips pressing against his own. A shiver ripples across his skin involuntarily. Izuru presses closer, perhaps thinking that he’s cold, deepening the kiss. Komaeda is kissing back, and this time it isn’t only for a moment. Their lips are moving together and Komaeda feels his heart is going to burst out of his chest at any moment, he  _really_  doesn’t know if he’s doing this right, but hopefully Izuru won’t notice. 

Before he realizes what’s happening, he’s being guided down to lay on his back on the bed, Izuru on top of him. Izuru breaks the kiss and Komaeda blinks open his eyes, staring up at Izuru and the curtain of dark hair surrounding their faces. 

“Is this okay?” Izuru asks. 

Komaeda can only nod and in the next moment Izuru is kissing him again, more firmly this time, his tongue swiping across Komaeda’s lips. Komaeda presses upward and opens his mouth into the kiss. Their tongues tangle together and Komaeda’s mind goes mostly blank. A tingling feeling spreads across his body. He doesn’t notice how his arms move and his hands come up to thread themselves through Izuru’s hair. Izuru’s body shudders at the touch and Komaeda feels a jolt of fire in his gut that he’s never experienced before, but that he can only describe as desire.

He doesn’t know how long they spend kissing like this before Izuru pulls away again. He only knows that it doesn’t feel like it’s been long enough, so he looks up at Izuru quizzically. 

“That’s what I’ve learned so far,” Izuru says, his voice lower, raspier than usual. “Was it satisfactory?” 

Confusion and disappointment give way to amusement, and Komaeda laughs. “Izuru-kun, are you really asking me that?” 

“I could assume the answer, but I’d rather hear it from you.” Izuru also sounds a bit amused. Does he just want to make Komaeda say it? 

“It was more than satisfactory,” Komaeda says. “But there’s always room for improvement. We can practice more any time you’d like.” 

He’d offer to practice more _now,_  but now that his rush of nerves has calmed down he’s hit with a wave of exhaustion that reminds him of how late it is. 

“That sounds like a good idea.” Izuru lowers himself down onto the bed beside Komaeda. “You’re tired?” 

Is it that obvious? Komaeda wants to ask, but all that comes out is “Mmm,” and his body feels like a lead weight. 

He hears a quiet laugh beside him, and Izuru pulls the blanket over both of them. Neither of them made any move to get up to turn the light off, and it was pretty shadowed on the bottom bunk, anyway. 

“It  _is_  late,” Izuru observes, his voice a hushed whisper, right beside Komaeda’s ear. “I’m sorry I kept you up.” 

Komaeda smiles. His body curls unconsciously toward Izuru, seeking more warmth. Their legs tangle together. He’s too sleepy to really even notice. “It’s fine, Izuru-kun,” he murmurs back. “I don’t mind at all.” 

There are many other things he could say, but that’s all that he thinks to say at that moment. Before he knows it he’s drifting off to sleep. The last thing he recalls is the feeling of an arm wrapping around him and pulling him closer. 

 

 

It’s early morning and Hinata is ambling half-blind down the hallway of the dorms to his room. Even the dim light of the hall is making his head throb painfully. 

He ended up drinking a bit more than he expected at Souda’s last night. Kind of pathetic, really, it was just the two of them. He doesn’t even remember much of what happened, except that sometime after forty-five minutes of ranting about Izuru and Komaeda he ended up passing out and woke up on Souda’s floor. The makeshift hardwood bed probably didn’t help the excruciating pounding on his scalp. 

Grumbling to himself, holding a hand over his eyes and peeking through his fingers, he manages to make it to his room. Without thinking he punches in the code and opens the door. 

The lamp beside his desk is still on and a jolt of pain ripples through his head, his vision temporarily dazzled. Once he blinks and clears the spots from his vision he wishes that he hadn’t. 

Izuru and Komaeda are sound asleep and  _cuddling_  in his bed. Komaeda is practically laying on top of Izuru and judging by the bits of his shoulder poking out of the blanket, he’s not wearing a shirt, and possibly not any pants either. 

As Hinata stares utterly shell-shocked, Komaeda shifts in his sleep, nuzzling his head into Izuru’s neck. Izuru makes a contented humming noise and tightens his grip around Komaeda’s waist.

Hinata stumbles into the hallway. He makes it halfway to the bathroom before he bends over and pukes on the floor. 

He wants to say it’s because of his hangover, but he can’t be too sure. 

**Author's Note:**

> hinata is such a bitch in this au but honestly wouldnt u be too if u had to put up w this shit


End file.
